


Sink or Swim

by sekhmettt



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Abortion, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Forced Abortion, Pre-Relationship, heavy stuff here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26114671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekhmettt/pseuds/sekhmettt
Summary: An alternate world where Oberyn Martell is sent to the Riverlands to try and help keep the Kingdoms together as tension rises under King Aerys' reign. While there, he comes across one Lysa Tully, holding a cup of what must be moontea.
Relationships: Lysa Tully Arryn/Oberyn Martell
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	Sink or Swim

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I’m back on my shit with rarepairs/crackships that no one else ships. As such, since I can’t find the fic I wanted, I decided to make it myself. Lysa Tully deserved better. That’s the entire motivation for this. Also, timeline? What’s a timeline? Just presume Robert’s Rebellion is delayed or doesn’t happen at all, I don’t care. That’s not the point right now.
> 
> Oh and please, if you have the money to spare, buy me a [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/sekhmettt) in this trying time. God knows I need it. If you do and have a fic request, let me know and I’ll definitely give it my best shot. <3

Tensions were sharp. Aerys grew madder by the day. For all that no one will admit it aloud, it wasn't something that had to be _stated_. Targaryens were known for their madness, and this Targaryen was burning people alive and growing paranoid. Prince Rhaegar could only do so much to control him and could only do so much damage control after the fact. The Kingdoms were growing wary, and so it was up to Oberyn to attempt to bring at least one of them back into the fold and assure them that everything would be okay.

Oberyn was uncertain what diplomatic powers his lovely goodbrother thinks he has and he would have refused to go if not for dear Elia doing the asking, but then, this trip was never truly about his diplomacy skills. It had to do with the fact that Oberyn was yet unmarried and as it just so happened, Hoster Tully had two unwed daughters. As if Oberyn had any desire to marry, _let alone_ marry a cold, uptight Northerner. If he was to marry, it would be to a Dornish woman with as much passion and fire as he himself possessed.

Regardless, now he was here, assuring the Tullys that everything was okay in the Targaryen dynasty, amusing himself by making them uncomfortable with his low cut shirts and flirtatious jokes. The eldest Tully girl was all but immune to them, too focused on her dreamy Wild Wolf, while the youngest was barely around and distracted whenever she showed up. At least he could entertain little Edmure Tully, who was at an age where he wanted nothing more than to learn how to fight. 

Oberyn expected the visit to continue like this until Lord Tully decided that he didn't care if the Dornish were strange and he'd rather his youngest daughter a Princess. There was nothing wrong with Lysa Tully. She was pretty and polite, though perhaps not as beautiful and polished as her sister, but he doubted the littlest Trout daughter would survive the waterless sands of Dorne. He'd explain as much to Lord Tully, once the offer was made, and while not directly securing the Riverlands loyalty to his Martell sister, perhaps at least easing their worries with the trip. If tensions broke and war followed, perhaps the Tullys would hesitate when debating which side to fight for, at which point _then_ Oberyn may reconsider marriage. The gods knew the only reason he ever would marry would be for Elia's benefit.

So, he whiles his way through the visit. He doesn't expect anything intriguing to happen, but he does appreciate sparring with the man slowly growing renown as the Blackfish. If he didn't think it'd send his host into a fit, he might even attempt to seduce the man. But alas, he couldn't risk angering uptight Lord Hoster, regardless of how interesting and attractive his brother is. And talented for that matter. It was because of a clever twist of the Blackfish's blade that he ended up heading towards the maester's room at just the right moment.

Oberyn didn't find the maester, but he did find the pale, drawn Lysa Tully sitting in the room, staring down at a cup of tea, red hair falling in waves around her face. She looked lovely, for all that she looked so very, very sad. He greeted her with a flourish and was given a polite, if lackluster greeting in return, alongside, "Apologies, my Prince. The maester will return shortly. He is speaking with my father. I'm loitering, but I will finish my tea and not bother you." 

He was about to coyly assure her that her presence is no bother, but a blessing, when the sharp, recognizable scent of her tea hit his nose and he raised a brow, lips automatically curling into a teasing smirk. “Moon tea for the honorable Lady Tully, hmm?” He wouldn’t have expected it. Perhaps the youngest Tully girl were more exciting than he thought.

Yet, at his words, the eyes that looked up to him were wide and guileless and perhaps a touch horrified, red rimmed and wet, and little Lysa Tully damn near threw the chalice across the room in her haste to get it away. The smirk fell off his lips as she breaks into loud sobs, curling in on herself. The only girl he has ever comforted in tears was his sister, yet while out of his depth, he endeavored to comfort her regardless.

“My lady, please, calm yourself. Such stress is not good for the babe.” Oberyn murmured, for it was surely true that she wished to keep the child, given her reaction to the moontea that she hadn't realized she was holding. Hands resting on her shoulders and pressing her back until she’s uncurled and straightened once again, he caught her gaze, keeping his expression open and sympathetic and concerned. He could not help her, could not calm her, until he knew the details of whatever plight had struck her. “Explain the situation and perhaps I can help you, Lady Lysa.”

The words tumbled out of her lips like the water of the river that surrounds her home, and once she began to speak, it seemed as if she couldn't ever stop. She shared of a love affair with her father’s ward, a small lord of the Vale, barely noble. Explained how the boy had called her _Cat_ when they laid together, but that it was surely a mistake. Explained how it was his child that she carried within herself, a child they conceived together out of love. Explained how she confessed as much to her father, giddy that she may finally be with her love. Explained how Hoster rejected the idea and sent the boy running back to the Vale. Explained how Hoster promised her that everything would be alright, that the maester would make her a tea that would calm her and make her feel better. Explained that she had no idea it was moon tea, that she was about to lose her baby, the only proof of the love between herself and the little Vale lord.

As she spoke, Oberyn’s face grew more and more stormy with rage. Not at her, but at foolish father who would so cruelly use something as dangerous as moon tea with a girl who doesn't even wish to be rid of her babe. A bastard was still a child, and should be accepted so long as the mother wished it to be so. It was the way of Dorne, for bastards to be raised alongside their trueborn siblings, and for all that the North called it _barbaric,_ Oberyn believed it more barbaric to hold honor and maidenly virtues above a child. Of courses, highborn women giving birth to bastards in Dorne were still frowned upon, but it was still _their_ choice and they were rarely abandoned or _tricked_ by their families if they chose to keep their bastard. _They_ decided whether they wish to keep any children, no overbearing fathers tricking them into drinking their baby away.

There were holes in her story, and from the sound of it, her Vale lordling did not share the same feelings as little Lysa Tully, but that was neither here nor there. What matters was that she wanted her child, and Hoster Tully was a cruel man for his trick. 

Yet, he could not do what he wished and storm into the lord's solar and shout all the ugly words he wished or demand a fight for the lady's honor. He had been sent here to encourage peace, not to make certain war approached ever faster. Patience and calmness was not an approach that suited his fiery temper, and he valiantly tried to channel placid Doran or sweet Elia, despite knowing both would be as horrified as he, if they ever got word of what had happened to Lady Lysa. 

And what could _still_ happen, if she were left here.

Oberyn could not pick a fight with Lord Tully. Yet, even if he had thwarted the cruel man's attempt at trickery this time, there was no saying that it would not happen again, or worse, if he found out that Lysa had not drunk the moon tea as he wished. He had always chosen the most inopportune times to fall to knightly desires. He wished to protect the girl. The _woman_ , for truly, she was not so much younger than he, despite how innocent she seemed. It would be an easy enough thing to sweep her away on his horse, but it would no further prevent a war than if he did what he truly wished and fought Lord Tully. 

Exhaling heavily, he recognized the obvious answer that he had wanted to avoid, not just for his own sake, but for Lady Lysa, who fancied herself in love with another. 

Inevitably, Oberyn dropped to his knees, taking the little Trout's hands in his own, "Lady Lysa, I cannot in good faith allow you to stay here. If your father attempted this once, it may happen again." Her face screwed up as if she wished to argue and defend her father, _family, duty, honor_ , yet it relaxed just as fast. She was no fool, this one. She recognized the truth of his words, even if she didn't wish it to be so. "I also cannot steal you away in the middle of the night, to be taken away from here. It would only anger your father, and I would never bring such a wrath upon my family." Something wary stole over the silent girl's face, even as she nodded her agreement to his words. "So, the only option I can see would be asking your father for your hand and marrying you." he hastened to continue as she bit her lip until tears welled in her eyes once more, "I know you love another. I would not begrudge you that, nor your child. If you wish, you can stay here, attempt to change your father's mind or attempt to find your own way, but I don't think he will listen, if he attempted this, and it would be dangerous for you and your babe. I know Dorne seems like a strange place, but you would be happy there, I think. It would give you more freedom than you had here, even if it is unfamiliar. You would be a Princess, if not in line for the throne. Regardless, the choice is yours." 

"My father is a stubborn man. He was never going to let me marry Petyr. And he would never let me have a bastard either." It was as if the words were pulled unwillingly from her throat. "Perhaps if I was Cat..." she trailed off, voice falling to a whisper before violently shaking her head, as if to push the thought away, "No, I - I think I -" Lashes fluttering rapidly, she blinked away tears once more and Oberyn leaned back, releasing her hands. 

"Think on it, my Lady." Standing he retrieved the now empty chalice, placing it beside her, even as she shied away from it, "Do not tell your father that you haven't had this and do not leave your rooms, as if you are sick from it." It would buy her time to make her decision. "I will visit you in five days time, to get your answer. Any later than that, and your father will know that you have not taken the moon tea." He gave her a flourishing bow, murmuring, "I know this is a difficult situation and a difficult decision, Lady Lysa, but you must be strong, for yourself if no one else."

His side still stung, from the Blackfish's blade, but it was the least of his worries right now. In truth, he might head back to the training yard, to take his anger out on hay men and squires, rather than his host. Despite giving her time, he felt as if he knew what her answer would be already. She loved a man, and she loved the man's child. She would do anything to keep them, if she could. Lysa Tully was not happy and would not be happy for a long while, but he would take no liberties as her husband and she would keep her babe, and perhaps the child would make her happy. Perhaps he would stop at King's Landing before returning home. Elia would take the woman under her wing, coddle her with familial affection and love, for she had always wanted a sister. The woman certainly needed a mothering figure in her life. Perhaps in time she could invite this lover to Dorne and live happily with him as a paramour, so long as Oberyn was allowed his own dalliances. Or perhaps that was too much for her Tully sensibilities. Only time and Lady Lysa's decision would tell how this weepy girl might grow and flourish under the hot Dornish sun. 

**Author's Note:**

> And then they lived happily ever after. Oberyn collected his bastards. Lysa raised her bastard. After some healing and perhaps a confrontation with Petyr, Lysa began to heal and live her best life in Dorne. She and Oberyn had oodles of trueborn children, since she didn't have reproductive issues due to drinking moontea. And maybe they found Ellaria along the way and became a loving, fun ménage à trois, who knows, idk. 
> 
> #LysaTullyDeservedBetter #LysaTullyProtectionSquad


End file.
